


Joyride

by PepperCat



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Addictive Personality, Angst, Aromantic Character, F/M, Hook-Up, I feel I should emphasize that, Non-Explicit, Unhappiness, Unhealthy Relationships, but like Axel I do not have a better one, head games, hints of toxic masculinity, mild obsession, unilateral breakup, which is not actually part of the problem, which is possibly not the right word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:01:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9137278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperCat/pseuds/PepperCat
Summary: Lisa's just playing. Axel doesn't see anything wrong with it. Shouldn't be a problem, right?As per the tags, not a happy story.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The first so-tagged GoldBomb fic on AO3; inspired, oddly enough, when I was browsing for pictures of an aesthetic for something different and ran across a collection of pictures and quotes that suggested this to me.
> 
> (1) I'm not sure about the mature rating; nothing explicit happens, but I suppose it deals with adult themes? So. Best effort, and all that.
> 
> (2) I like all the characters. That doesn't mean I think that they're all nice people, or that they all like each other.
> 
> (3) Wow, there are _no_ other GoldBomb fics? None? I am weird.

It starts out as bragging over drinks and it turned into an argument. It's not a _mean_ argument, as such things go, but neither Lisa Snart nor Axel Walker are in the habit of letting other people have the last word, and it's getting spiky. Lisa puts her glass down with force that's just shy of a slam and glares.

"Name one thing you can do that I can't and I'll buy you a drink."

"Piper," Axel says without missing a beat.

She tries to stifle a laugh and doesn't manage. He hasn't seen her caught utterly flat-footed before, and she's just starting to look angry about it when he glances down. It'll give her a chance to get herself back together. Axel understand the importance of appearances, and while he won't drop an argument he doesn't want Lisa really mad at him.

Also they're side-by-side at the bar, and while looking down is not the best angle, Lisa's got legs that Axel is always happy to watch.

When he looks back up she's waving the bartender over and getting them both drinks. She's smiling like they're still fighting, but he chalks it up as just a fading mood, and then it's _his_ turn to buy drinks, and...

She hooks her arm through his when she gets up, and her "Walk me home," doesn't even pretend to be a question. If they'd still been arguing he'd have-- well, maybe not _refused_ , there are limits to what you do with Lisa-- but she seems to be over that.

He would have refused the invitation to come up, though.

Probably.

Maybe.

Probably would _not_ have refused the offer of a drink, because come on, and there is no earthly way he would not have watched when she bends over to take her shoes off because why on earth would you ever _not_?

"Axel," Lisa says, purring sweetly, straightening up and turning around and the motion helps pull his eyes up which is good because he's sure she _knows_ he was checking her out but that doesn't mean he gets any points for being caught at it.

"What?"

"I can tell when a guy's undressing me with his eyes."

He manages a smile and keeps looking at her face. Which it's not easy to keep doing at the best of times and now that she's pointed it out it's gotten really hard, but he manages. Isn't even staring at her mouth, although she's smiling; manages to keep looking into her eyes. "I'll stop." It's a lie, but it's a polite lie.

Her smile widens. "Don't," she says, handing him a glass and draping one wrist over his shoulder. "Just use your teeth."

He doesn't drop his drink and he's proud of that.

Lisa lets him undo her shirt, but not take it off. He thinks he can feel the slick stutter of old scars on her legs, but he can't see them in the half-light and-- _read the fucking room, Axel_ \--he knows better than to use his mouth for questions right now.

She leads, and it's not the first time he's let someone do that, but there's the dimmest feeling that he's can't keep up with her, that she's getting something out of it all he can't quite understand. But he can't hold onto the idea, can't hold onto anything but the way she moves him, moves with him, all fierce grace and the tight slip of her body over his, twining 'round him and pinning him down and--

He puts an arm around her after. She sniffs and pushes it aside, but not all the way off, and he runs his hand down her side. Marvelling at the silky feel of her skin, how his fingers leave lines in the dim gleam of sweat, how she's letting him touch her.

* * *

He's still grinning by the time he gets home, riding the fading buzz of endorphins; he thought walking back would be enough to get him sleepy but it doesn't seem to be working. It's late-enough-to-be-early but Hartley's still awake or already up, making toast in the kitchen and talking softly to one of the rats in Spanish or something like it.

He kicks out of his shoes and goes to lean on the kitchen doorway. Hartley looks up, then gestures to the bread and the tableknife that are out. "Need anything?"

Azel shakes his head, squeezes past Hartley for a glass of water while Hartley finishes what he's doing and puts things away. The other man isn't making a big deal about him being there, but looks at him a time or two, curious frowning glances.

Axel doesn't mind the silence, exactly, but he's curious. "Is Lisa--" Hartley looks at him. "Was she a dancer or something? I mean..."

He doesn't see it when she's in heels; she's got a perfect strut then, elegant and precise as her eyeliner and the moue of her mouth, and he vaguely thinks _catwalk model_ and not _dancer_. But out of her shoes she moves softer, and she's stronger than he'd have guessed, and remembering her makes him think of waves coming in, the way they can pull and throw you, their smooth indifferent power.

Hartley squeezes his eyes shut. "Really, Axel? _Lisa?_ "

"You looking to give me grief, Pipes?"

"I'm sure you'll find all the grief you could want on your own." Hartley shakes his head. "I don't know about the dancing," he says after a moment. "You could ask her."

"I guess," Axel says distantly. He's not sure she'd answer. Lisa _talks_ , but mostly about work and other people and... it's all _this one tim_ _e a thing happened_ kind of talk, not _I care about_ kind of talk.

Hartley's frowning at him. "Are you alright?" he says finally, and for a second Axel's blinking at the question but Hartley's looking at his own hands, not at Axel, and that makes it easier to move past the glitch of hesitation and find the words. Maybe he _is_ getting tired.

"I'm fucking spectaclar," he says, laughing. "Just wondering. I know she _likes_ you better than me, and I thought--" He tries to imagine Lisa and Piper actually talking, _her_ telling _him_ anything, and can't quite make it ring true. He grins at the mental image, though. "I dunno. It doesn't matter."

"As long as you're happy," Hartley says, and Axel chuckles. Silly guy. It's _as long as you're having fun_ , and he was.

* * *

He thinks it's a one-time thing, and that's a little odd because he's bothered to _think_ about it. Usually he'd chalk something like that up to a lucky lightning strike and move on. He's sure as hell not pushing for a repeat. Pushing Lisa over _anything_ is hazardous; over this, he might as well douse himself in gasoline and hand Mick his lighter.

It's not a one-time thing.

Once that becomes clear he actually tries texting her and gets _nothing_ back; Lisa gets to call him up but not the other way around. Axel's sure he'd turn her down if he ever had anything better to do but _something better to do_ is a _really_ high bar to clear. She doesn't call him when there's anything he needs to do for her brother, and there's nothing else he can't skip out on.

The fourth time is when he really sees the scars, not that he's _focusing_ on them but the curtains are pulled back and the sky past the sheers is all rain and grey light and they're kind of hard to miss; sees them and looks up at her and her glare so clearly says _not one fucking word_ that he flinches and closes his eyes for a minute, needs to lose himself in the glide of her body before he can forget the threat.

It's Lisa. It'll be alright if he doesn't upset her.

After, he's lying next to her and she isn't moving, but the clear grey light is flickering with rainshadow; it makes it looks like she's shivering or stretching or relaxing, nothing to do with him at all.

He pulls himself up to sitting, watches her for a moment. If it were anyone else next to him that unselfconscious he'd touch one of her scars and ask what happened--not push, just _ask_ , curious about the intersection of body and story--but instead he sits there, wondering why something feels a little off. He didn't say anything. He's sure she knows he won't, so she's got no reason to be mad.

Still.

"Mind if I smoke?"

"Not in here."

"'kay." He minds the idea of not smoking more than the idea of being on call, honestly, but he can't say why. He doesn't even smoke in his own room unless the window's open; not often even then.

Decides it doesn't matter. Lisa never lets him stick around long anyway.

* * *

If they were trying to hide it, Hartley thought he might never have figured it out. He'd have realized _something_ was going on with Axel, because the other man has started to have moments where he just checks out of whatever conversation they're having entirely for a second or two, but he wouldn't have guessed that Lisa was part of it.

He was still a little surprised when he and Cold brought a couple of boxes formerly from Mercury Labs over to his place, and Lisa came out of Axel's room. Axel was following her, although he stopped dead when he saw who'd come over.

"Lenny!" Cold gave her a gently exasperated look as he set the boxes down on the couch and glanced at Axel. "You won't be long, right? Drop me downtown, I've got things to do."

"Clearly," her brother said dryly. Lisa sniffed in amusement as she pulled on her boots and strolled out.

There was a beat of quiet. Axel wasn't flinching, which Hartley imagined might be a difficult trick to pull off under the circumstances. He took a second--Hartley heard him breathing light and quick--and started speaking.

"Sorry you had to find out like--"

"Make yourself useful, Walker," Cold said indifferently. He'd picked up one of the boxes again, and Axel hesitated for a second, then opened the basement door.

Hartley left them to it, stalked out of the house and shut the door precisely behind him. Lisa was standing in front of the house, one foot on the ground and the toe of the other balanced lightly on the front steps, hands in her pockets. It was the midpoint of dusk on a warm night, and the solenoid light across the street hadn't stuttered on yet. She looked, in Hartley's estimation, about one lighting filter shy of being the centre of a photoshoot.

He shut the door precisely behind him, and she glanced over her shoulder at the sound. He saw the cat-satisfied smile on her face.

"Really?" he said. His voice was a little harsher than he'd meant.

Lisa shrugged easily and looked back to the street. "He made me laugh."

Hartley came down the steps and glared at her for a minute. She arched a perfect eyebrow and waited for him to find something to say.

"You've got an excellent sense of timing," he settled on, and her smile widened. "Just text me when you break him, alright?"

"Hartley." A purring sing-song. "Lenny isn't worried. Why should you be?"

" _Lenny_ is only going to worry about _you_."

"It's just a little fun. A girl likes to be appreciated."

"Lisa."

"He's _very_ appreciative. Don't you think he had fun too?"

"I'm sure he did," Hartley said.

"So?"

Hartley looked at her and had half a dozen things stuck in the back of his throat-- _maybe a man who can be_ _coaxed into obsessive devotion by a steady stream of_ _letters is not_ _someone well-_ _equipped to handle being wrapped_ _around your little finger, Lisa_ was featuring prominently--but eventually he just put on a technical smile and settled for "Text. Me."

She laughed.

* * *

Lisa stretched out in the otherwise empty bed. The sheets were warm, the shower was running in the bathroom, and she was feeling awake and satisfied and generally pleased with the world. She stretched one hand over the edge of the bed, and fished her phone out of the pile of her clothes. There was a text message waiting; it had come in nearly half an hour ago.

 **Hartley:** Is Axel around?

She smiled and sent back a response.

> **Lisa:** What do you want, Hartley?

**Hartley:** Could you remind him that he wanted us to work on the casing for one of his projects tonight?

> **Lisa:** Did you lose his number? I can send it to you.

**Hartley:** He ignores his phone when he's with you.

> **Lisa:** I'm sure he ignores it when he's with other people too.

**Hartley:** I'm sure you're very proud of how little time he's spent on other people lately.

> **Lisa:** Maybe he's just ignoring you. Or has his phone turned off.

**Hartley:** Absolutely.

 **Hartley:** Axel turns his phone off all the time.

 **Hartley:** Sometimes entire days go by where he doesn't even look at a screen.

 **Hartley:** Just remind him. He's going to be late as is. Thank you.

Lisa almost started typing back a response--something along the lines of _do I look like your secretary?_ \--before she tossed her phone down and glared at it. The satisfied feeling wasn't _gone_ , exactly; it was just screened by a layer of irritation.

She fumed for a little, until the shower stopped running, then rolled over and sat up.

"Axel?" she called.

"Yeah?"

She got to her feet, strolled up to and past him and he watched her like a pillar of flame and that generally pleased-with-the-world feeling came back strong. It was in her smile, and her smile was in her voice, even if he couldn't see it. "Do you have somewhere else to be?"

"Sorry, I'll--"

She interrupted with a laugh, glanced back over her shoulder. "That wasn't a hint to leave, Axel. Do you have somewhere else to be?"

Axel blinked. "No...?"

Well, the question was as much as a reminder about Hartley as she can be bothered to give.

"I need someone to wash my back, come on."

"Lisa," a little cautious, like he knows it's the smallest silliest question he could possibly bring up, "what're you playing at?"

"Do you care?" He might. He's not stupid, he's just... very distractable. And if gets skittish and backs off, well, he'll probably see that Hartley tried to get in touch with him and he might decide to run back home and that'll be fine. She's not _inves_ _ted_ in being petty, it just feels like an amusing thing to try.

But skittish isn't really what she'd expect from Axel and he didn't disappoint, managed a "Not really," and a grin and followed her, and if his smile wasn't quite hooked all the way up to his eyes then she didn't have a reason to care. That they can be another hour at least, probably longer-- _that_ she cared about.

* * *

He's losing his cool. He can feel it slipping.

It was just supposed to be _fun_. But Lisa's in his mind like a needle under his skin, flaring up like the pain from a cigarette burn, and the last time he thought about a girl like this it was Denny, and Denny _liked_ him. Denny _cared_. More than he ever did, and at the end that was a fucking mess that he never wants to go near again, but at least she looked at him.

He trusts Lisa to not get emotional. He doesn't mind that sometimes she slaps his hand away if she wants it somewhere else, or tells him what to do; none of it's anything he isn't willing as hell to try, and he likes it when she gets off--hearing her, seeing her, feeling her. He loves getting off with her.

He doesn't mind spending time and attention on people, or seeing them more than once, but usually they give something back. He knows that. And she _is_ giving something back, just being _around_ her is getting something back, it's just...

He's down in the basement staring at the workbench and he knows that if he's not actually going to work he should put stuff away, but what he's actually _thinking_ about is the way she walks in heels, the elegant arch in the small of her back and how she moves when she kneels over him, how she laughs when she lets him touch her. She laughs at him and he cares but it doesn't seem like enough to _stop_ over, he laughs at lots of things and gets so bored with people who act like it's a big deal and he doesn't want her bored with him, please not that, he doesn't want her to cut him off and Jesus Christ he doesn't know what kind of guy would walk away from something like this but he can't.

Lisa's still having fun. He doesn't think he is.

But her mouth curves like that, and those perfectly shaped nails leave red tracks across his shoulders or down his back, and--

He always thought of _scratching an itch_ as a one-and-done thing. It's started to dawn on him that if you do it too long, things can start getting bloody.

He can't end it. He can't ask for her to stop it-- he _can't_ , you don't, that's not how it works when someone like Lisa's willing to fuck you. He can't ask for anything different.

He realizes he's been staring at the table long enough that there's a crick in his neck, dreaming or daydreaming or getting sucked down into a memory of last time the time before any time getting down on his knees and sometimes she purrs his name and once he made her gasp while she did and her skin under his hands the heat and taste of her the bite of her nails the touch of her like silk and hot oil--

He shakes himself out of it again. The soldering iron's shut off in his hand; when he touches it to the side of his thumb, it's cold.

* * *

"You're a real bitch sometimes, you know that?"

"You're free to leave if you don't like it, Axel." There was a pause. "Just walk... right... out. I can't _imagine_ what I'd do without you, but I'm sure I'd figure out _something_."

Longer pause. The small sound of clothing rearranged; ragged breathing getting louder, a swallowed curse.

"Did you say something?"

"You're a fucking vampire."

"Cute. The door's right there. Are you leaving?"

"...no."

"Want me to kick you out?"

"Fuck, Lisa, please, no."

* * *

 **Lisa:** Since you asked: he's outside my place.

> **Hartley:** Right outside?

**Lisa:** Not anymore.

> **Hartley:** That's helpful.

**Lisa:** You asked for a text, not a travel report.

Hartley had walked home from downtown with Axel before, and knew the route he usually took. He found Axel in an empty lot on Wreathton, maybe a mile from home. It had once had pretensions of being gridded into spaces for cars by yellow lines, and Axel was sitting on the low step of a concrete parking block. It was cold, but he wasn't huddling, just leaning back with his shoulders against the tattered brick side of the convenience store. His hands were folded around a cheap plastic pint bottle, still three-quarters full, the kind of thing Hartley guessed he'd stuck under his coat and walked out of a store with somewhere between here and Lisa's.

Axel glanced up when Hartley called his name, but that was it. Hartley stepped off the sidewalk and walked towards him through the thin peppering of weeds.

"You ever walk away from a car crash?" he said when Hartley got closer.

Hartley shook his head.

Axel nodded a little and took a drink. "Like being in a bubble," he said. "You're _moving_ , right, that part doesn't feel like it's not normal, and you don't remember anything that would've hurt, but you look down and there's blood all over everything. Fucked if you know where it's coming from."

Hartley tried to think of something to say, and Axel just looked at him standing there and snorted and waved at the other end of the parking block. Hartley sat down gingerly.

"Are you gonna say 'I told you so'?" Axel said after a minute.

"No," Hartley said. He _wanted_ to, god knows; it was itching at the back of his tongue and with Axel so quiet, he thought the words might actually get heard. But he didn't think it would actually _help_ , didn't think Axel would listen any more or less another time, and he'd never been a fan of pointless effort.

"That's cool," Axel said softly. "That's cool, okay. You want a drink?"

"I'm good."

Axel wiped off the mouth of the bottle, then held it towards him. "Breakup conventions, Pipes. Come on."

"Was this a breakup?"

"No." Axel hiccupped a laugh and waggled the bottle. "Fucked if I've got a better word for it. Come _onnn_."

Hartley took the bottle and sipped--some generic spiced rum--then handed it back. Axel grinned for a moment, but then it faded and he leaned back against the wall again.

"You know," he said abruptly, "usually I can tell if someone likes me. Maybe not _how much_ , fine; don't care. Just _if_ they like me enough to not be mean. That's all. It's not so hard."

"She was mean?"

Axel shook his head. "She was fucking glorious, Piper. She just." He swallowed a mouthful of the rum. " _I'm_ nice," he said, and Hartley thought that this was not the time to open that point up for debate. "And she wasn't mean? I guess? She didn't _do_ anything, it wasn't that. But I don't--" He thought of Lisa smiling at him, cat-satisfied, watching him staring at her. "I don't fuck people just to see what they'll do, you know?"

"I think so."

Axel sighed and and leaned forward, raking one hand through his hair. Hartley evaluated what he knew of the other man and calculated odds for a moment and then moved over and put one arm gingerly across Axel's shoulders. Axel leaned towards him a little, breath smelling like rum and smoke.

"What happened?" Hartley could swallow back _I told you so_ , but he couldn't swallow back asking.

Axel let out a little giggle. "I couldn't end it, but _she_ could. You'll love this."

"Really?" Hartley's mind pinwheeled into horrible scenarios for a minute, and then he remembered that Lisa had texted him with a reference to their earlier conversation. She was fine. Axel was here snickering, but wherever Lisa was, she was fine.

"I told her I loved her," Axel said, lowering his voice. "Oh my god, Pipes, the look she gave me. Like I wasn't even worth being disappointed in." He giggled and took another sip from the bottle. "She never really let me stick around after anyway, but it was pretty final this time."

"You told her--" Hartley blinked and Axel nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You don't-- Correct me if I misunderstood, Axel, but you don't _do_ that."

Axel giggled again. "For the love of fuck, don't tell _her_ that." The idea of Lisa realizing he played her--using a line fucking _Piper_ knows enough to see through, of all things--made him shudder and he took another swallow and then scrubbed his other hand over his face. "She's done with me. I'm just gonna drink and go home and turn off my phone and sleep for like a fucking week, okay?"

Hartley nodded.

Axel sighed. "Anyway," he said after a moment. "Why are you out here?"

"I've got nowhere to be," Hartley said. "Thought I might stick around, walk back with you. If that's alright."

Axel nodded, stretched his legs out and leaned his head on Hartley's shoulder. The height difference wasn't so much, sitting down with Hartley's arm all awkward around his shoulder. "You sure you're not gonna say 'I told you so'?"

Hartley thought of the scant other times he'd heard Axel ask for anything close to reassurance and shivered. It was getting cold, and the breeze smelled like night air and old car exhaust, empty and dark.

"I'm sure," he said. "Let's get you home."


End file.
